


Coffee, Tea or Me?

by 1_800_FRERARD



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Italian Mafia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2661068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_800_FRERARD/pseuds/1_800_FRERARD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Gerard, it's just a classic case of wrong place at the wrong time.</p><p>You can't wander around the city at night all 'gloomy prince of darkness', and expect to never run into your crush while they're in the middle of doing something highly illegal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Consistent

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot but it was two times too long to be posted as a oneshot and I'm just gonna run with it.   
> I checked this as 'graphic depictions of violence' for guns/gun violence. Msg/comment if you'd like a more descriptive run-down of potentially triggering content.

Gerard Way sat at the same table in the back of the same Starbucks every Monday, Wednesday and Friday after his morning drawing class.  
The place was loud and crowded and always played dreadful music. The flurries of vapid college students never seemed to stop talking as they waited in line for coffee that was mediocre at best. Gerard liked the coffee in all of it’s mediocrity. At least it was consistent. The music somehow had somehow gotten worse as soon as Halloween ended. The place shot into Christmas-overdrive, offering a variety of terrible seasonal beverages to match the terrible seasonal music.  
  
But Gerard didn’t go to the same Starbucks three times each week for the atmosphere, the company or the consistently so/so coffee.  
Gerard went to the same Starbucks 3 times a week because Frank worked there.  
  
Gerard could never forget the first time he spoke to Frank...  
Frank stood behind the espresso machine and asked Gerard the correct spelling of his name with his eyebrow raised and a sharpie hovering over a disposable coffee cup. Frank smiled warmly and politely as Gerard stuttered out a very shaky, hushed ‘G-E-R-A-R-D’, eyes darting anywhere that wasn’t Frank’s pretty face. When Gerard’s latte was finally ready, he found a quickly scribbled smiley face next to his name.  
  
Gerard loved Frank’s quick, messy scrawl. He loved that Frank was always in a good mood, with bright eyes and wide, genuine grin. He loved that Frank always wrote a smiley face next to Gerard’s name… so what if he drew the same smiley face next to everyone else’s name. He didn’t know how many tattoos Frank had, but he liked that Frank had them all the same. Most of all, he loved that Frank remembered Gerard enough to smile and ask, “The Usual?” whenever Gerard approached the counter.  
  
Mikey had been telling Gerard to ask Frank out for weeks. It’d been a little while since Gerard went on a date, Gerard could admit that. But his last relationship had ended badly and he was in no rush to wreck the polite, casual, barista-student relationship he’s had with Frank. Like the mediocre coffee, their relationship was consistent. If Gerard wasn’t going out with Frank there would be no cheating, no drugs and no heartbreak.  
Gerard… didn’t like to talk about how things had ended with his last boyfriend.  
  
Gerard had absolutely no problem with admiring Frank from a distance.  
His younger brother on the other hand, eventually got tired of hearing how cute it was every time Frank messed up a transaction on the cash register, or played with his lip ring when a customer took a long time to decide what they wanted or any other number of things Gerard told Mikey about.  
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Mikey had asked in the wake of Gerard’s protests. “Just pay with your card and write your cell number under your signature. If he doesn’t call you back there’s another starbucks on the other side of campus.”  
Gerard had just eyed Mikey until Mikey pointed out that, statistically, it was incredibly likely there was an equally attractive barista at the starbucks just 5 blocks from the one where Frank worked.  
That may have been the case, Gerard reasoned, but the equally attractive Barista at the other starbucks wasn’t Frank.  
And Gerard liked Frank.  
~  
  
 _“Today is the day.”_ Gerard told himself as he waited in line at Starbucks on a rainy Friday morning.  
He had meant to ask Frank out on Monday and chickened out. He felt braver on Wednesday (after an hour long pep-talk from Mikey the night before), but as soon as Frank had smiled at him and said ‘hello’, Gerard’s brain had gone on autopilot. He walked away from the counter with his usual latte… without having asked Frank out.  
That night, Mikey had threatened to give Gerard the silent treatment until he asked Frank out. Mikey was, to put it politely, tired of hearing about the ‘fucking Starbucks barista who probably wasn’t even that cool.’  
So there Gerard was, standing in line with a pounding heart and shaky hands, trying to think of what the fuck he would say to Frank. He’d looked up weekend movie times at the nearest theater, as Mikey had suggested, in case things went better than Gerard hoped.  
Eventually, it was his turn to order. Frank stood behind the espresso machine, smiling at Gerard.  
“Hi Gerard!” He beamed. “Usual today?”  
“Actually, um…” Gerard started swallowing hard.  
Frank tilted his head and considered Gerard with a curious, attentive look.  
Gerard… **_melted…._**  
“Um… Actually I’d like tea instead.” He squeaked.  
“Tea...” Frank said slowly, like the words tasted funny in his mouth. “Uh. Sure. Yeah! Of course. What kind would you like?”  
“Um… black?” Gerard said, feeling his face get hot, not even sure what the rest of his body was doing anymore.  
“English Breakfast okay?” Frank asked, smiling returning to his face.  
“Sure.” Gerard nodded, handing a wadded bill to the girl behind the register. She regarded Gerard with a bored expression, handing him his exact change. He slipped a bill into the tip jar and cowered behind the espresso machine.  
Just because he hadn’t asked Frank out then didn’t mean he couldn’t ask Frank out before he left, Gerard reasoned.  
Frank’s smiling face appeared around the other side of the espresso machine, almost giving Gerard a fucking heart attack.  
“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Frank laughed. “You want room for cream?”  
“Um… What?” Gerard breathed.  
“Room for cream? You know? Like, in your tea? I won’t fill the cup all the way if you wanted to put milk in it.” Frank explained, still smiling warmly.  
“Oh um… Yeah. Sure.” Gerard nodded, feeling a little piece of himself die.  
“Cool.” Frank said, disappearing behind the counter again.  
A moment later Frank slid Gerard’s drink onto the drink counter, flashing Gerard one last grin before returning to the espresso machine to make a drink for some other customer.  
Gerard grabbed the hot cup, and made a beeline for the station with the sugar, milk and stirs. After pouring some cream into the scalding water he noticed that there was a small, poorly drawn skull on the outside of the cup next to his name. His heart fluttered.  
Frank had taken the time to draw something he didn’t draw the other customers.  
He poured a bit of sugar into his tea, popped the lid back on his drink and shouldered his way out of the store, not even bothering to get any drawing time in.  
Mikey would just have to give Gerard the silent treatment, at least until Monday. Gerard was satisfied enough with his interaction with Frank.  
There was no need to rush.  
~  
  
Mikey upheld his threat and gave Gerard the silent treatment all weekend.  
Gerard had called Mikey as soon as he got back to his apartment on Friday.  
“Did you ask him out?” was the first thing that came out of Mikey’s mouth.  
“Well, no, but…” Gerard had started. There had been a click on the other end, indicating that Mikey had hung up on him.  
When Gerard called back, his mother had answered, explaining that Mikey had told her to tell Gerard that he’d call on him Monday and that he was going to his friend Pete’s.  
  
It turned out that not having anyone to talk to about his interaction with Frank sucked. Gerard knew Mikey would cave eventually, even if Gerard never asked Frank out. But Mikey was a stubborn little shit who stood by his word. Gerard would go crazy if he couldn’t talk to Mikey for the week or so it would take for his little brother to swallow his pride...  
Which was exactly how Gerard found himself fidgeting nervously in the line at Starbucks on Monday morning after his drawing class. He had ducked out of the back of the room five minutes before the end of class, hoping he wouldn’t have to wait in line for as long. That way he’d have less time to get himself worked up about what he was going to do.  
  
After the girl in front of him moved to the side, he found himself in front of Frank and the bored looking girl behind the register.  
“Morning Gerard!” Frank beamed. “What are you having today?”  
“Um… the usual.” Gerard said, hoping the shakiness in his voice wasn’t as apparent to either of them as it was to him. “Latte please.”  
He handed the girl his debit card.  
“You scared me on Friday with that tea business.” Frank joked, conversationally, shoving a pitcher of milk under the steamer.  
“Sorry.” Gerard said, smiling weakly.  
“No problem.” Frank shrugged. “Always good to mix things up, right?”  
“Yeah.” Gerard agreed stiffly.  
The girl behind the register handed Gerard his card with a receipt and a pen.  
His flattened the paper against the counter, writing in the appropriate tip amount and signing his name. His heart stopped as he brought the pen below the signature line and started to write the first digit of his phone number.  
He drew the 5 all wrong, shaping the tail strangely and... what the fuck was he doing? He quickly scribbled over the 5, drawing a little skull equally terrible to the one Frank had drawn on his cup on Friday.  
He passed the receipt back to the girl behind the register. She considered the receipt for a moment.  
“Oh cute!” She said, turning the receipt towards Frank.  
Gerard’s blood ran cold.  
Frank glanced over at the receipt and then looked up at Gerard, flashing him a smirk before returning his gaze back to the espresso machine.  
Gerard was completely mortified by the exchange. He turned his back to the counter as Frank prepared his drink, pretending to be interested in the garments adorned by the college kids still waiting in line to order.  
“Had a feeling you would like my doodle.” Frank said.  
Gerard spun back around to find Frank leaning over the counter with Gerard’s drink in his hand. He slid it across the countertop slowly.  
“You should draw for me more often...” he continued, holding up Gerard’s receipt. “Stella was right, this is cute.”  
“Ahm… sure.” Gerard breathed, face flushing like crazy.  
“Cool.” Frank said, smiling at Gerard before disappearing behind the espresso machine.  
Gerard couldn’t remember ever leaving a place so quickly.  
~  
  
Gerard could always lie. He could tell Mikey that he had given Frank his number and that Frank had simply never called. But if he lied about that, Mikey would expect to know the details of the starbucks across campus. He’d ask Gerard if there were any cute baristas at that location… And Gerard would quickly find himself caught up in his lie.  
Mikey didn’t end up calling Gerard on Monday, as their mother had said he would.  
It was late on Tuesday night when Gerard’s phone rang. The screen flashed the number for his home back in Belleville. Gerard answered the call and brought his cell to his ear wordlessly.  
“You didn’t ask him out, did you?” Mikey asked.  
“No… but-” Gerard started.  
“Knew it. Pete owes me five bucks.” Mikey laughed and hung up.  
Gerard sighed and stared dejectedly at his cellphone.  
He missed living at home, where he could just tickle Mikey until he was talking to him again.  
Gerard got up off the couch and shrugged into his coat. He checked the front pocket for his pack of smokes before heading out the door.  
He often went for walks at night to clear his head. He wanted to get to the bottom of his crush on the barista, especially after their interaction on Monday morning. He needed to come up with a solid approach that he couldn’t back out of.  
Gerard had lots of drawings he could give to Frank, which would sort of be a cool way to ask someone out, Gerard thought. He could just show up at the Starbucks with his number already written on a drawing so that he didn’t give himself as much time to change his mind. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t sketched a little monster holding a sign with his phone number on it.  
It had been raining earlier in the day but the rain had softened to a light mist, cutting the visibility and distorting the street lights, giving the neighborhood an eerie glow. Gerard liked this weather the best. He liked the way the mist prevented sound from carrying the way it normally would. The streets seemed quieter and softer.  
Gerard wove through the neighborhood, shuffling down street after street, trying to keep track of which was he was going in a vague sort of way. He lit cigarette after cigarette, trying to come up with something smoother than just shoving a drawing in the guy’s hands.  
He stopped at a traffic light on a particularly busy street. His hair slicked back as he ran his hand through his damp locks to push it out of his face. He leaned against a light post and was about to light another cigarette when he saw a familiar figure across the street turn the corner and push into a bar.  
That person had unmistakably been _Frank_.  
Gerard stood there completely frozen, even though the light had changed and he was safe to cross the street. He deliberated on whether or not he should follow Frank into the bar. There was technically nothing stopping him. It wouldn’t be stalking, Gerard didn’t think. Frank hadn’t seen him so it wouldn’t be too weird if he just went in, pretending that he intended to go to the same bar. Aside from the fact that Gerard hated bars, it wasn’t completely impossible to believe he was going to one. _Alone._ _On a Tuesday night._  
Okay. So what if it was a little bit of a stretch.  
Gerard’s feet carried him forward cautiously, beaten-up chucks squeaking against the wet pavement.  
If he ran into Frank, Frank would ask what he was doing there and to that, Gerard had no answer. He stood outside of the bar for a moment, tucking his unlit cigarette back into the pack. There was flickering neon ‘OPEN’ sign in the window beside an illegible list of drink specials.  
Eventually, Gerard pushed the door open and made his way inside.


	2. This Conversation Never Happened

If things went terribly, terribly wrong Gerard would just... never go to the Starbucks Frank worked at ever again. There was always the Starbucks across campus, as Mikey had so frequently pointed out.  
It was dark and divey inside the bar. The room was filled with smoke and the eyes of unwelcoming strangers. It certainly wasn’t the kind of place Gerard would hang out. The televisions were all set on channels playing sports games. Peanut shells littered the floors. Many of the tables were occupied by mean looking old men who glared at him like they wanted him to leave. Gerard stood by the entrance for a moment before changing his mind and turning around, pushing his way back outside.  
He was sure he had seen Frank. There had been a flash of familiar neck tattoos on the person he’d seen shouldering into the bar, but it wouldn’t surprise him, he supposed, if it had just been his imagination.  
He pulled the same cigarette he had been holding moments before, planning to circle the block and start back towards his apartment. He ducked into the alley to the side of the building to light his smoke out of the wind.  
Gerard had taken a single puff when he was startled by the clang of a door slamming shut further down the alley. He glanced in the direction of the sound.  
Some 20 feet down the way there were two shadowy figures carrying a large, dark object towards a shiny, black car. The lights were cut but thick, white exhaust curled out of the exhaust pipe. Gerard could hear the faint purr of the engine. The thing in the hands of the shadowy figures was about the length of a person…  
It was also the _shape_ of a person.  
In fact, it _moved_ like a person as well.  
 **** __  
It was quite unmistakably a person, wrapped up and bound, being carried towards the trunk of the dark car.  
There wasn’t anything Gerard could do about it, but he stood frozen in place, hoping he’d gone undetected by the individuals in the alley who were clearly up to no good. He pressed himself against the side of the building in hopes of obscuring himself in the shadows.  
A third figure emerged from the building, unencumbered.  
The individual spun around, freezing as they turned towards the mouth of the alley.  
“Stop right there!” They called out.  
Gerard’s heart skipped a beat.  
“Put your hands where I can see them!” They yelled, moving towards him. They raised their hand in Gerard’s direction. It was too dark to tell, but Gerard would not be surprised if there was a gun in their hand.  
Gerard stayed where he was on the miniscule chance that they were not yelling at him. They couldn’t be yelling at him. He couldn’t believe he had just gotten himself into such a bad situation. If only he’d stayed home instead of wandering the streets at night by himself.  
“I said put your hands where I can see them, _motherfucker!_ ” They yelled.  
Gerard gave up all hope that there was someone else in the alley they might have been yelling out to. He stepped away from the wall and raised his arms, cigarette still dangling between the fingers on his right hand. As the armed figure slipped from the shadows, revolver first, Gerard realized it _was_ Frank he had seen duck into the bar after all.  
“Frank?” Gerard yelped.  
“Shut the fuck up!” Frank snapped.  
“Ay Benny! That fucker just called you ‘Frank’, what the fuck’s going on!?” One of the figures still shrouded in darkness called out to Frank.  
“I’ll take care of this, Vin, you and the boys go on ahead.” Frank called over his shoulder, gun still fixed on Gerard, “I’ll catch up. Don’t tell the boss about this. I’ll tell him myself.”  
Gerard tried to remember how to breath as the other guy, ‘Vin’ as Frank had called him, slipped back towards the car and got in. The engine revved and the car started pulling further down the alley, rolling out the other side and disappearing into the rest of the traffic on the street. Frank’s gun was frozen on Gerard for the agonizing 30 seconds it took for the car to get away.  
“Frank, what-” Gerard squeaked when they were gone.  
“Shut the fuck up. You speak when I tell you to speak, you got that?” Frank barked.  
Gerard nodded, swallowing hard.  
Frank moved towards Gerard and Gerard flinched, certain he was a goner right then and there.  
Frank pressed his gun against the small of Gerard’s back and pushed him forward.  
“Follow my lead, princess.” Frank instructed.  
The way Frank was acting was such an alarming contrast to the friendly barista at Starbucks that Gerard longed for, Gerard wasn’t sure it was even the same person. He still obeyed the demands of the menacing, dark figure with a gun to his back and started walking in the direction Frank pushed him.  
They made it some 15 feet before Frank shoved Gerard into the shadows of a doorway and brought the gun to the underside of Gerard’s chin. It wasn’t exactly what Gerard had in mind when he’d thought of someone he liked pushing him around. The barrel of the gun was cold and invasive against Gerard’s skin. A small, pathetic noise made it’s way out of Gerard’s mouth against his will.  
Frank’s other hand clutched Gerard’s shoulder, pressing him firmly against the cold, metal door.  
“You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing out here?” Frank asked calmly, quietly.  
“I was out for a walk.” Gerard said, voice wavering. “I saw you and I-”  
He faltered, trying to swallow his fear.  
“And you what?” Frank asked, pressing the gun harder against Gerard’s skin.  
“I wanted to say ‘hi’. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, trying not to cry as the gravity of the situation started to sink in.  
“Didn’t realize _what?_ ” Frank pressed, his warm breath tickled Gerard’s face. It was sweet and held faint notes of cigarettes and beer. Gerard heard a faint click as Frank flicked the safety catch.  
“Didn’t realize you…” Gerard gasped. “I don’t even know what the fuck I just saw, honestly.”  
“You. Didn’t. See. Anything. You got that?” Frank offered darkly.  
“ _Yes_. Yes of course.” Gerard whispered, nodding furiously. “Please don’t kill me.”  
“I’d rather not but you’ve got me in something of a sticky situation,” Frank said. “You almost blew my cover back there and… and now you know too much. I can’t just let you go.”  
“Who the fuck am I going to tell? Who would even believe me?” Gerard croaked, feeling the gun press harder against his throat. Frank’s hand tightened on his shoulder.  
Frank let out a cold laugh.  
“I suppose you’re right.” Frank sighed. “But the way I see it, you have two options, my friend…”  
“Options?” Gerard gulped.  
“The first option is for me to _kill you_. And neither of us want that…” Frank tutted. “The second option is for you to come with me. You can consider yourself a casualty of this operation. You’ll have to abandon your life as you know it but it’s better than dying in some alley, right?”  
Gerard closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He couldn’t even really process the situation. Either way, he didn’t know if he’d ever see Mikey again. He’d die in the middle of Mikey’s ridiculous silent treatment and Mikey would _never_ forgive himself.  
 _“Tick tock, motherfucker.”_ Frank pressed.  
“Just… Kill me.” Gerard said, before he could stop himself. “But before you do… just know I… I was gonna ask you out...”  
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Frank asked, frustration growing apparent in his voice.  
“Yesterday when I drew you that skull… I was gonna write my phone number.” Gerard said, keeping his eyes closed. It was easier to pretend it wasn’t happening if he had his eyes closed. “But I got nervous and drew a skull over it.”  
Gerard felt stupid admitting it at the time, but he didn’t want to die with it still on his mind. Not after all the time he’d spent trying to work up the guts to ask Frank out.  
If he wasn’t a dead man before, he was certain that he was a dead man now. If Frank was involved in organized crime he was also most definitely a flaming homophobe. People were killed for less than what Gerard had admitted to.  
Frank was silent for a moment. The pressure of the gun against Gerard’s neck didn’t loosen. Frank’s fingers did not loosen their grip from Gerard’s shoulder either.  
“I had a feeling you liked me.” Frank muttered finally.  
Before Gerard’s brain could process what Frank said, Frank’s lips were on his. The safety catch clicked into place on the gun and the barrel was lowered away from Gerard’s neck.  
He was too terrified to really kiss Frank back or to enjoy the way Frank’s fingers unclamped from his shoulder and gently caressed his neck. He kissed Gerard carefully and sweetly, in a way Gerard would have really liked if he wasn’t still freaking the fuck out about the gun.  
“Motherfucker, I definitely have to kill you now.” Frank chuckled softly, pressing his lips against Gerard’s neck. He leaned into Gerard and spoke with his lips hovering over Gerard’s ear.  
“Okay, listen to me very carefully, Gerard.” Frank instructed. “I’m going to let you go… But this conversation never happened. You will never speak to anyone of what took place here. You didn’t see anything here tonight. You will never come here again. If anyone asks, you don’t know me. You got that?”  
“Yes.” Gerard whispered.  
“Good. If you slip up, motherfucker…” Frank hissed, “I will find you.”  
“I won’t slip up.” Gerard promised.  
“Now, most importantly... I don’t ever wanna see your fucking face, ever again, you got that?”  
“Yes, sir.” Gerard nodded.  
“Sir?” Frank laughed.  
“Fuck you.” Gerard whispered.  
“Don’t get tough on me, now.” Frank said, half teasing, half threatening.  
Gerard’s heart leapt for fear that Frank might pull the gun on him again.  
“God...” Frank sighed, pressing his lips against Gerard’s again. Gerard could sort of feel it now that there wasn’t a gun pressing into his neck.“Someone should give you a fucking medal for poor timing.”  
“Put it on my headstone.” Gerard said softly.  
“Maybe another day, Gerard.” Frank laughed. “Now get _the fuck_ out of here before I change my mind.”  
He pulled Gerard by the front of his coat and shoved him in the direction of the mouth of the alley.  
“Whatever you do… Don’t look back.” Frank said. “And don’t make me come find you.”  
Gerard could hear Frank’s footsteps scraping in the wet gravel. Frank mumbled something under his breath. Gerard thought he caught the words ‘pretty motherfucker’ but his adrenaline was on overdrive and nothing seemed real. He kept all of his focus on trying to move forward.  
He wasn’t sure how he was doing it but somehow he was heading in the direction of his apartment. The eerie glow brought on by the mist was no longer welcoming to Gerard. It seemed almost sinister as he wandered through the night. The shadows seemed darker. Sound carried in strange ways, distorting and mangling foot steps and voices.  
He tried to follow Frank’s directions. He tried very hard not to look back but his heart was racing with every passing car. Any of them could’ve been Frank or one of his men, coming to pump Gerard full of lead because Frank had changed his mind.  
He tried to process what the fuck he had seen, but the more he thought about it, the more unbelievable it seemed. There really wasn’t anyone he could tell. Mikey would just think it was some elaborate lie Gerard had made up to avoid asking Frank out.  
At least it would no longer be a lie to tell Mikey that Frank had rejected him. Putting a gun to someone’s throat was probably considered rejection by most people’s standards.  
After what felt like hours, Gerard was slipping into his apartment and locking all the locks, then doubling back to double-check that he’d locked all the locks.


	3. Should've Killed You Myself

After checking the locks for the 5th time Gerard dropped down onto his couch and turned on the TV for background noise. His brain was completely locked up. He couldn’t think and now that he had sat down he couldn’t really move either. He couldn’t believe that what had happened with Frank in that alley had _actually happened_. He could almost make himself believe that it had all been some sort of strange dream.  
But his shoulder was still sore where Frank had grabbed him...  
  
Gerard stayed up the rest of the night, completely frozen. He found himself in the same state of numb, sleepless shock long after the sun had come up. He spent the day sitting around his apartment, staring vacantly at his TV, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.  
Well, he knew very well what he was _supposed_ to do….  
He was supposed to carry on as if it hadn’t happened. He was supposed to pretend he wasn’t a witness to a crime committed by Frank and his shady fucking handymen. He was supposed to pretend, perhaps, that Frank had killed him for what he had witnessed.  
Most importantly, Frank ‘never wanted to see his fucking face ever again.’ Which meant Gerard was _supposed_ to start purchasing his post-academic caffeine fix from the good people at the Starbucks on the other side of campus.  
And _that_ was the fucked up part, Gerard realized: he still wanted Frank, even though he’d pushed him down a dark alley, called him names and held him at gunpoint. Even though he was some sort of outlaw who knew his way around a handgun.  
In Gerard’s mind, Frank was still a cute, punchy barista who could steam soymilk like nobody’s business.  
  
And that was how Gerard found himself in line at Starbucks after class on Friday morning.  
Frank never wanting to see Gerard again had nothing to do with Frank not wanting to kiss Gerard. It had more to do with what Gerard knew about Frank, or _Benny_ as his accomplice had called him. He didn’t look like a _Benny_. Gerard suspected neither of the names actually belonged to the unscrupulous barista he held affections for.  
Gerard knew he was risking a lot in seeking out the dangerous fugitive but he had more questions than answers. He wanted his questions answered almost as much as he wanted to give the guy his number.  
He tried to act as casually as was possible as he craned his neck to try and get a glimpse of Frank behind the espresso machine. As he got closer he realized Frank wasn’t behind the espresso machine at all. There was some dark haired girl in Frank’s usual place.  
Gerard’s head snapped around the store, looking for Frank elsewhere, performing some other task like mopping the floors or stocking the pastry display.  
But Frank was nowhere to be found.  
Gerard felt just as unnerved as he did relieved.  
His mind started spinning in dizzying, anxious circles.  
Perhaps Frank had known Gerard would come looking for him and quit his job. Perhaps he was already 4 states away, carrying out unsavory acts with those other men and the poor soul they had stashed in the trunk of that car. Whatever the case may have been, Frank was not where he would’ve been any other Friday morning.  
Gerard approached the counter and ordered a latte from the new barista. He handed his card to the girl behind the counter. She tossed him her usual bored smile. He wrote in a tip and signed his receipt with a carefully drawn skull.  
“This is Gerard by the way.” She said to the new barista, dragging his receipt towards herself across the counter. “He’s one of Frank’s regulars. Comes in all the time. Always gets a grande latte.”  
“Nice to meet you Gerard.” the new barista smiled warmly. “I’m Lindsey. Frank and I switched shifts so I guess I’ll be making your lattes from now on.”  
“Nice to meet you too.” Gerard offered stiffly, stepping aside so the person in line behind him could talk to the cashier.  
“I’m cooler than Frank anyways. You won’t miss him.” Lindsey laughed.  
“I’m sure I won’t.” Gerard agreed.  
 _That motherfucker_ , Gerard thought.  
He smiled at Lindsey as she passed his latte across the drink counter and headed for a table at the back of the store. He found a spot in the corner of the room, sat down and started working on a drawing for Frank.  
  
It was about two hours, one bathroom break, several pages of doodles, and one refill later that he heard the chair across from him scrape backwards across the tiles. He glanced up, expecting to see someone taking his chair to add it to another table.  
He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his lips as Frank sat down across from him.  
 _“What the fuck are you doing here?”_ Frank asked calmly. His face was frighteningly blank and collected.  
“Drinking a latte... Drawing.” Gerard shrugged.  
“Don’t play dumb, asshole.” Frank said, glancing around at the people at the tables around them.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gerard pressed, closing his sketchbook.  
“What do you want?” Frank hissed, leaning across the table. “I thought I made myself clear.”  
“I want answers.” Gerard said simply.  
Frank scrubbed his hands over my face and took a deep breath. Gerard would’ve freaked out if they weren’t in the middle of a fucking Starbucks. Frank wouldn’t pull a gun on him in a room full of people happily drinking lattes and staring at their smartphones. There were too many witnesses with cameras.  
Gerard had never been so close to Frank. It was strange to be talking to him without the context of coffee or a gun at his throat.  
“You’re trouble, you know that?” Frank said finally. “Here... come with me.”  
Frank slid out of his chair and beckoned for Gerard to follow him.  
Gerard slung his bag over his shoulder and followed Frank with his sketchbook clutched across his chest, deserting what was left of his latte.  
Frank pulled out a set of keys in front of a door with an ‘Employees Only’ sign. He unlocked the door and grabbed Gerard’s arm, pulling him inside.  
Once the door was closed Gerard realized he was no longer in a place where Frank wouldn’t hurt him. Frank flicked on the lights, illuminating the small staff bathroom. It smelled like disinfectant and piss which, Gerard decided, was a step up from a dark alley and a gun.  
“I thought I told you I never wanted to see your face again.” Frank said, leaning against the sink. “What part of that did you not understand?”  
“You changed your schedule... You knew I’d come looking for you.” Gerard said, hugging his sketchbook tightly to try to hide how scared he was. He leaned against the wall across from Frank. “Why?”  
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be dumb enough but clearly you are.” Frank sighed.  
“What’s dumb about it? What the fuck did I walk in on, Frank? Who are you?” Gerard asked.  
“You’re lucky I think you’re cute.” Frank laughed darkly. “The people I work for would kill you for asking less than that.”  
“Who do you work for?” Gerard asked softly.  
“People who would kill you as slowly and painfully as possible if they knew you knew about them.” Frank said softly, stepping towards Gerard. “I should’ve killed you myself…”  
Frank reached a hand up and brushed Gerard’s jawline. He looked scarier in the flickering industrial lighting.  
“I’d make it quick and painless…” Frank continued, eyes intense. “Someone as pretty as you doesn’t deserve to die miserably.”  
Frank leaned forward and pressed his lips against Gerard’s. Gerard was together enough to kiss back. Sort of. His hands were still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. He couldn’t pull Frank closer and kiss him harder like he wanted to. Frank’s breath was sweet and minty from the gum he was chewing. He wrapped his arms around Gerard, crushing the edges of the sketchbook into Gerard’s forearms.  
“I should’ve killed you.” Frank whispered against Gerard’s lips.  
“What’re you gonna do? _Blow my brains out in a Starbucks bathroom?_ ” Gerard muttered sarcastically.  
“I’d do it in a heartbeat.” Frank laughed darkly, tucking a lock of Gerard’s hair behind his ear.  
Gerard just blinked at Frank in horror.  
“Kidding.” He sighed, taking a step backward away from Gerard. “I’d never bring a gun here anyways.”  
“Maybe you should?” Gerard said. “If the people you work for are really so dangerous…”  
“It’s all about keeping up appearances.” Frank shrugged.  
They were quiet then. Gerard had too many questions to ask but he had to frame them in ways that Frank would actually answer.  
“Look, Gerard, I have to go get ready to start my shift.” Frank sighed. “You really can’t come back here. It’s not even me you should be afraid of. It’s them...”  
“I’m not going to stop coming here.” Gerard said.  
Frank opened his mouth to argue but Gerard shut him down, “Look, if I stop going to the Starbucks I’ve been going to three times a week for the entire semester… that just seems infinitely more suspicious.”  
“Fine.” Frank breathed. “Just… no waiting around for me.”  
“Why can’t we just pretend I was brave enough to give you my number?" Gerard asked, "Nobody has to know what I know.”  
“ **You don’t know anything.** ” Frank snapped.  
“Right. Whatever.” Gerard said. He opened his sketchbook and tore out the page of doodles he’d written his number on. “Here.”  
Frank accepted the piece of paper and studied it for a moment with a confused expression.  
“You don’t want to get involved with me, Gerard.” Frank groaned. “I fucking promise you that.”  
“You don’t mean that.” Gerard argued.  
“Does someone have to point a gun in your face in order for you to think they’re serious?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow. He folded up the sheet of paper and tucked it into the front pocket of his coat.  
“If you don’t want me then why did you kiss me?” Gerard shot back.  
“It’s not that I don’t want you.” Frank argued. “Do you always act so fucking dumb? It’s really annoying.”  
“Call me.” Gerard insisted, not sure where he even found the courage to be so pushy with someone who knew their way around a gun.  
Frank shook his head and muttered something under his breath.  
“Look, I really have to go.” Frank pressed.  
“Okay.” Gerard mumbled.  
“Gerard…” Frank groaned.  
Gerard just bit his lip and stared hard at Frank.  
“Okay. Fine.” Frank sighed. “If you promise to never come back here. Like, ever again. I’ll fucking call you.”  
Gerard couldn't stop his smile. With his sketchbook tucked under his arm he leaned forward and kissed Frank, pulling him closer with his free hand.  
“But…” Frank said, pulling away. “I fucking come to you. I never want you to come to me. **Ever.** Do you understand that?”  
“Yeah.” Gerard nodded.  
“Do I have to put a gun to your throat later to make sure you understand?” Frank asked, pecking Gerard on the cheek. He made the shape of a gun with his hand and brought it to Gerard's neck.  
Frank smirked at the look of horror on Gerard’s face.  
“Okay. Get the fuck out of here.” Frank said, pushing Gerard towards the door.  
A few customers eyed the two of them as they stepped out of the bathroom together.  
“Never come back here, I fucking mean it.” Frank said under his breath.  
“I won’t.” Gerard nodded.  
“Good.” Frank sighed.  
Gerard waved goodbye to Lindsey, who was smiling at him from behind the espresso machine, before shouldering out the door and into the cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this okay? should i keep writing it?


	4. First Date

Gerard walked down the street towards the train, checking over his shoulder as discreetly as he could every couple of steps. He didn’t know what it was he was looking for as he glanced back at the expanse of sidewalk behind him. Shiny cars with tinted windows? Men in suits following him? Each time he looked over his shoulder it felt more and more as if he was being watched.  
Gerard didn’t know who Frank was or who Frank worked for. He just knew that the people Frank associated with would kill Gerard if they felt it was necessary. And if they were anything like Frank, which Gerard was certain they would be, then they were temperamental and on edge, ready to use deadly force without giving it a second thought.  
Gerard had his theories at that point. His first thought was that Frank worked for the government. Multiple aliases made sense if Frank was some kind of secret agent. Gerard’s second thought was that Frank was involved in some sort of organized crime. Frank being involved in gangs seemed too much like something out of one of Gerard’s comic books, but when Gerard thought about it, so did being held at gunpoint.  
Gerard felt safer once he was standing on the train platform, surrounded by other people waiting for the train. He even felt safer as he rode the train downtown to his apartment. He even forgot about the whole situation for a moment.  
It was once he got off the train and started the walk towards his apartment that he started checking over his shoulder again. He couldn’t explain the inklings of paranoia that plagued the corners of his mind but he couldn’t deny them either.  
He made a point to lock all the locks and then double check the locks as soon as he was inside his apartment.  
The afternoon passed in strange increments of time. Gerard was too distracted by his anxieties over the pretty criminal he’d kissed in the Starbucks bathroom to draw or work on homework. He found himself running his fingers over his comics, trying to find a title that would distract him. When nothing caught his interest he dropped onto the couch and flipped through TV channels, unable to find anything that would keep him occupied there either.  
Gerard kept checking his phone every couple of minutes. He’d make sure the sound was all the way up, check his obviously empty text inbox and put the phone back to it’s resting place beside him on the couch.  
At some point, Mikey called, and for once Gerard was filled with dread as he saw his brother’s name flash across the screen. Gerard had no clue what he was supposed to even tell his younger brother. If Frank worked for the government, they could already be tapping Gerard’s phone and he couldn’t risk them finding out that he’d told his brother. Not until Gerard had more answers.  
“So I bet Pete that you woulda asked him out by now…” Mikey said as Gerard brought the phone to his ear. Gerard could hear the sound of him chewing something loudly. There were crunching sounds followed by the ruffle of a bag.  
Gerard paused, considering telling his brother that he had been held at gunpoint a few nights before. Not who had done it, just that it had happened. He wanted to tell his brother that their lives were short and precious and that anything could happen to them. He wanted his brother to come visit and help him sort out his... love life, if he could even call it that. He took a deep breath.  
“I… Mikey, I gotta start going to the Starbucks across campus.” Gerard said softly. “Frank has a girlfriend.”  
“Oh… Wow. That sucks.” Mikey said, the wrapper in his hands faintly crinkling, “I mean, Pete owes me five bucks and a ride to school but… damn, Gerard. I’m sorry. That’s-”  
“It’s okay. He was actually really nice about it.” Gerard sighed.  
“Pete’s so stupid.” Mikey mused fondly.  
“Tell me why I find it hard to be interested in the two of you wagering over my love life?” Gerard asked dramatically, but he couldn’t hide the smile fighting for it’s place on his lips.  
“Whatever. Come home this weekend. Me and Pete will cheer you up.” Mikey insisted.  
“Okay.” Gerard agreed. “I’ll come home tomorrow.”  
They talked for awhile longer about something stupid Mikey and his friend’s had gotten into at school but Gerard couldn’t really focus. He wondered if it was a mistake to not tell Mikey about Frank. If something happened to Gerard after all, Mikey would have no way of knowing what it was or what to even do about it.  
Eventually Mikey had to go. He teased Gerard about the fact that he wasn’t doing anything cool on a Friday night, but immediately felt guilty afterwards because for once it wasn’t like Gerard hadn’t tried. He reminded Gerard that he loved him, said he’d see him tomorrow and hung up.  
Gerard felt a little better after hearing Mikey’s voice. He slid his phone into his pocket and got off the couch. He ended up staring out the window at the orange glow of the street lights cast across the buildings outside.  
Frank had changed Gerard’s concept of the city. Gerard knew bad things happened everywhere, all the time. He had always known that. Bad things even happened in comic books, even. The world was full of crime. But Frank had made it all more real to Gerard, because Frank was out there somewhere, probably up to no good with those other shadowy men Gerard had seen in the alley the other night. With that thought in mind, the city seemed bigger and scarier. Gerard didn’t feel safe going out alone at night.  
  
Gerard gave up on expecting Frank to call him that night somewhere between midnight and one. It was in that same hour that he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and started on working on some timid, fluttery drawings. They weren’t his best work, but it gave him something to do with his hands. He hummed along to his records as he worked.  
Sleep didn’t even feel like a vague possibility. There was far too much on his mind. If it was anything like all his other sleepless nights, he’d be up until the sun and spend his Saturday sleeping. If he went home to Jersey the next day, he’d catch a few minutes of uncomfortable sleeps on the train and spend the day napping on the Way’s couch while Mikey played video games with his friends.  
It was around 3:30 in the morning that there was an unmistakable tapping on Gerard’s door. He thought he’d imagined it at first. He turned down his music and listened carefully to the silence of the dim apartment.  
The knock was louder the second time. Gerard slowly rose out of his chair tiptoed towards the door with his heart thudding in his chest, wondering first, if someone had the wrong apartment, and second if Frank’s men had found him.  
He glanced through the dirty, clouded glass of the peephole and saw a hooded figure in all black. He froze, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to do. He could just not answer the door. It was the middle of the night after all. The person on the other side of the door couldn’t actually expect anyone to come to the door at three in the morning, when half the city was believed to be asleep.  
The figure reached a hand up and slid their hood off, revealing a tousled mess of brown hair, framing the face Gerard knew as Frank’s. It took a moment for his mind to catch up, but it was unmistakably Frank on the other side of the door.  
It took Gerard another moment to unfreeze, but his body worked quicker than his brain in unlocking the locks and opening the door.  
“Frank?” Gerard breathed, “What’re you-”  
Without answering Frank pushed past Gerard and closed the door behind them. He spent a moment observing and testing the locking mechanisms on Gerard’s door before spinning around and smiling at him.  
“Hello.” Frank said softly, giving Gerard a once-over.  
“Um, hi?” Gerard said, following behind Frank as he wandered into the apartment without explanation. He glanced at the empty coffee mugs and trash littering every surface. He would’ve tidied up if he had been expecting company.  
“Sorry I didn’t call…” Frank said, pulling Gerard’s blinds closed, “I meant to, but some things got in the way.”  
“What kind of things?” Gerard asked conversationally.  
Frank’s gaze snapped towards Gerard at an almost predatory speed.  
“We’re going to have to work on your manners.” Frank tutted. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun.  
“Whoa!” Gerard squeaked, putting his hands up, “Frank, I didn’t mean to-”  
“Relax.” Frank interrupted, smiling dryly and removing the clip from the gun and setting both on Gerard’s desk. “I just wanted to show you I have no intent on using it on you.”  
Gerard couldn’t tear his eyes away from the shiny, black object, even as Frank stepped closer to him.  
“How did you know where I live?” Gerard asked, swallowing hard, “How’d you know I’d be awake?”  
“It’s amazing what I can do with a first name and a phone number…” Frank said, reaching his fingers up and tracing along Gerard’s jawline. “And your lights were on...”  
Frank’s hand dropped from Gerard’s face and Gerard felt himself blush. Criminal or not, it was still incredibly strange to have the guy he’d been crushing on all semester standing in his apartment.  
“Do you live alone?” Frank asked, glancing around the small living room.  
“You didn’t figure that out on your own?” Gerard asked curiously.  
“Information is expensive.” Frank shrugged, stepping away from Gerard and dropping onto the couch, “And besides, what’s the fun in all that when I can just ask you myself.”  
Gerard grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the desk, shivering at how close he was to the gun even though he knew it wasn’t loaded, and sat beside Frank on the couch. Frank’s eyes were still busy drifting from corner to corner, taking in all the details of Gerard’s small, dirty apartment.  
“Yeah… I live alone.” Gerard said, taking a swig of whiskey and running his fingers nervously over the edge of the label.  
Frank raised an eyebrow as he eyed the bottle in Gerard’s hands.  
“I like your place.” Frank commented, directing his gaze to Gerard’s cluttered coffee table. “It’s really… unapologetically yours.”  
“Messy and sad, you mean?” Gerard smirked.  
“No. No, not that.” Frank laughed. “It’s… it looks like an artist lives here. You’re too busy thinking about your work to be concerned with things like cleaning.”  
“That’s… a nice way of putting it.” Gerard muttered, “I think most people would just call it messy and sad...”  
“Really clean spaces are too… _sterile_. Not to mention overrated.” Frank said, grabbing the whiskey bottle form Gerard and squinting at the label.  
Gerard looked Frank over as he took an experimental sip of the liquor. He decided he liked Frank best in all black. It suited his strange tendency to be as temperamental as he was charismatic.  
“It should be illegal for anyone to call this whiskey.” Frank wheezed, setting the bottle down on the coffee table.  
Gerard made a face at him for shit-talking his taste in booze. He couldn’t muster any actual insults on the off chance that Frank had a second gun hiding somewhere.  
“Anyways,” Frank continued, “I shouldn’t beat around the bush. I actually came here to talk you out of this.”  
“Out of what?” Gerard asked, feeling his heart skip a beat.  
“This.” Frank said, waving a hand between the two of them. “Us.”  
“Oh...” Gerard said softly, feeling himself visibly deflate. He bit his bottom lip and stared down at his hands as he twisted them awkwardly in his lap.  
“You really don’t wanna get mixed up in all this, Gerard.” Frank said. “You just don’t.”  
“You already said that.” Gerard mumbled dejectedly.  
“It bears repeating, I guess.” Frank sighed. Gerard could hear him shift beside him on the couch.  
“You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.” Gerard said. “You could’ve just not called. I would’ve figured it out. I can handle rejection.”  
“It’s much more complicated than that.” Frank said. “I’m not just flat-out rejecting you. That’s what I need you to understand.”  
“Things are only as complicated as you make them, Frank.” Gerard argued, feeling himself go from rejected to angry in .00002 seconds, “Why not just lie and say you don’t like me? I’d get over it eventually.”  
“Because I already have to lie to you about everything else...” Frank said.  
“So what’s one more thing?” Gerard asked, looking up at Frank.  
Frank just stared back at him. Gerard couldn’t decipher his expression.  
“It just doesn’t add up.” Gerard continued, “You came all the way here… to tell me to stay away? That doesn’t make any sense.”  
“Sure it does. If I went about it any other way I’d risk having you show up at my work.” Frank shrugged. “And I _really_ can’t have that. For your safety and for mine.”  
“Bullshit.” Gerard countered, “You just want me to justify this to you because you can’t justify it to yourself.”  
“What do you mean?” Frank asked flatly.  
Gerard just shook his head frustratedly and leaned forward, grabbing the front of Frank’s coat and planting a kiss on his lips. Frank was already rejecting him so what more damage could he really do?  
Against all reasoning in Gerard’s brain, Frank’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer. The angle was a little uncomfortable, but Gerard didn’t care. Frank’s lips gently parted and his warm, sweet breath overwhelmed Gerard’s senses. He tasted like cigarettes and sugar, mixed with a twinge of the whiskey he’d sipped. Gerard never wanted to stop kissing him.  
But just as quickly as it had started, it was ending. Frank pulled away, hissing out a string of curses under his breath.  
“Goddamit Gerard.” Frank whispered. “I can’t be held responsible for you, not more than I already am. I _won’t_ be. I refuse”  
“What the fuck does that even mean? Stop speaking in abstractions.” Gerard argued, leaning towards Frank to kiss him again. Gerard’s lips made contact with the corner of Frank’s mouth as he tried to angle his face away.  
“You’re too fucking innocent.” Frank groaned.  
“Innocent? You think I’m innocent?” Gerard gasped, trying not to laugh at the idea.  
“Yes.” Frank snapped. “I think you’re incredibly innocent… and naive… and _vanilla._ ”  
Gerard pulled away enough to glare at Frank, taking great offense to the idea that he, Gerard Way, could possibly be ‘vanilla’ by any stretch of the imagination.  
“Have you ever shot a gun?” Frank asked, “You seem pretty fucking afraid of mine.”  
Gerard shook his head.  
“How many people have you watched die?” Frank asked. “Do you know how to hold a knife to prevent an attacker from using it to stab you in the guts? Do you have any idea how easy it is to break into this apartment? Do you remember the circumstances by which we met the other night? Do you have any idea what would’ve happened to you if one of the others had found you, Gerard? Do you-”  
“Okay, I get it!” Gerard interrupted, “But so what? You could change my answers to those questions.”  
“I don’t want to! That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Frank shot back. The frustration and disappointment on his face looked sincere enough.  
“You need to find yourself a nice art boy,” Frank continued darkly, “Who’ll call you when he’s supposed to, be there when he’s supposed to... Fuck you gentle and sweet whenever you want.”  
Gerard froze up at that particular string of words.  
“I can’t promise you anything but violence and death, Gerard.” Frank continued flatly, “I can’t just promise it. I guarantee it.”  
An uncomfortable silence fell over the two of them. Gerard realized that Frank still had his arms around him.  
“I’m sorry.” Frank said, “It sucks it has to be this way but-.”  
“Yeah. It does.” Gerard interrupted, sliding away from Frank. He reached for the bottle and took a nice, long swig.  
“Especially because you’re so... _fucking pretty._ ” Frank sighed.  
“That’s not fair. You don’t get to just say shit like that.” Gerard admonished, nearly spitting out his mouthful of liquor. The toxic, sludgey excuse for whiskey burned all the way down to his stomach.  
“Sorry...” Frank amended.  
Gerard set the bottle down and glared at Frank. He couldn’t figure out why Frank hadn’t just left already.  
“I haven’t been… completely honest with you.” Frank said, wincing as Gerard set the bottle back on the table a little more forcefully than was necessary, “There’s actually another reason I’m here.”  
“Shocker.” Gerard sighed sarcastically. He folded his arms across his chest. The feelings of rejection were starting to bloom as the alcohol started to kick in.  
“I was sent here to scare you.” Frank admitted, running a hand through his hair.  
“Oh great.” Gerard said, rolling his eyes.  
“The boss found out about your _interference_ the other night.” Frank explained, “He wanted me to shake you up, make sure you wouldn’t tell anyone about what you saw.”  
“I didn’t see anything.” Gerard said, the line now well-rehearsed.  
Frank smiled dryly at that.  
“I know you didn’t.” Frank said fondly, “It’s just… business, it’s how we do things. You’re something of an assignment of mine, now.”  
“Assignment?” Gerard asked, not liking the sound of the word.  
“Well, if you talk it’s my fault because I didn’t kill you.” Frank elaborated, “So I have to keep tabs on you. For a little while, at least.”  
“You don’t wanna go out with me, but you’re gonna stalk me. Is that what you’re saying?” Gerard asked.  
“More or less.” Frank shrugged, smiling at Gerard’s word choice, “But, need I remind you, it’s not that I don’t want to go out with you.”  
“Right.” Gerard sighed. He reached for the bottle and took another swig. “Well, since I already know about all this… aren’t you gonna tell me who you work for? What am I up against?”  
“The mob. Who else?” Frank offered nonchalantly, “They’re pretty pissed I didn’t kill you.”  
“Yeah… I imagine they would be.” Gerard said softly, almost numb enough to take the new information as no surprise.  
“It typically takes me an hour or so to scare a guy like you into keeping quiet. I’m just gonna hang around here for a little while longer to keep things realistic.” Frank said, “By all means, don’t let my presence keep you from going about your night.”  
Gerard couldn’t fucking believe it. Of course the first person that he might actually have a shot with in months and months was involved in the fucking mafia. He wasn’t sure if Mikey and Pete had made any bets on a situation like the one he was in, but he suspected one of them owed the other a lot of fucking money… or a lot of rides to school, depending on the currency they were wagering in.  
“Fuck this.” Gerard groaned and knocked back another mouthful of whiskey.  
“Yeah.” Frank agreed.  
“One more question…” Gerard said, “Is ‘Frank’ even your real name?”  
“Of course it’s my real name.” Frank chuckled. “Why wouldn’t it be?”  
Gerard opened his mouth to point out that Frank’s accomplices had called him by a different name in the alley that night, but by now he’d reasoned he wasn’t supposed to bring it up again.  
“Well, Frank,” Gerard said, carefully annunciating the ‘K’, “For the record, I want you to know there’s nothing vanilla about me... I would’ve blown your mind.”  
Frank leaned forward, biting his lip and considering Gerard with a hard look.  
“Well, _Gerard,_ ” Frank said, mocking Gerard’s tone, “For the record, I would’ve let you.”  
They stared each other down for a moment before Frank pushed forward the extra couple of inches and kissed Gerard, _hard._ Gerard was completely fucking beyond confused, but he kissed back feverishly, tangling his fingers in Frank’s hair and letting Frank’s tongue slide into his mouth.  
If anyone asked Gerard, he’d say that he had pulled Frank on top of him. If anyone had asked Frank, he’d say he pushed Gerard down. Either way, Frank ended up on top of Gerard as they toppled back onto the couch. The bottle of whiskey, or what was left of it, was very nearly spilled in their frantic effort to try to get enough of each other.  
There was a great deal of awkward fumbling as Frank tried get out of his coat without pulling his lips away from Gerard’s. Gerard was of little help, chuckling against Frank’s lips at his useless efforts. Eventually Frank did have to break off of Gerard when his arm got caught in one of the sleeves. He pulled his coat the rest of the way off and went for Gerard’s neck, sucking and biting until Gerard was writhing and moaning under him.  
Gerard’s fingers worked tediously at the buttons on Frank’s shirt as they kissed hungrily.  
“Feel like I’m... supposed to buy you dinner first.” Frank growled in between kisses, grinding his hips against Gerard’s.  
“Let’s just pretend you already did.” Gerard gasped.  
“Deal.” Frank whispered, pulling his shirt over his head, buttons be damned. “Let’s go to your room.”  
Gerard had been keeping his cool but as Frank slid off of him and he got a better view of the tattoos sprawling over Frank’s skin, he lost any remaining cool he may have had.  
He lead Frank down the hallway towards his room, cringing as two realizations floated their way to the forefront of his mind. 1. His room was the messiest part of the apartment, by far. And 2. Gerard didn’t have any condoms.  
Frank wouldn’t come to know just how messy it was if they left the lights off. As for the condoms… It was just Gerard’s luck, really. Of course he would find himself empty-handed after convincing the strange, beautiful barista he’d liked all semester to fuck him.  
Gerard pulled Frank into his arms and kissed him slowly and passionately as he tried to work through the best way to tell Frank that wouldn’t result in Frank changing his mind again.  
“Frank, uh, listen a sec,” Gerard said, tearing his mouth away from Frank’s, “I just realized I… I don’t have any condoms and I kinda doubt you’re carrying any so, um…”  
“I had a feeling you were bluffing.” Frank teased softly.  
“I wasn’t fucking bluffing.” Gerard groaned, sliding a hand down to palm at Frank’s hard-on through his black slacks. “You have no idea how much I wanted to...”  
Frank pushed Gerard down onto the bed. Gerard tried to remember, feeling around on the blankets as he maneuvered backwards, if there were any books on the bed laying open and in danger of having their spines bent.  
“Can I ask you something?” Frank asked, curling up beside Gerard, resting his head on Gerard’s pillows and draping an arm over Gerard.  
“Anything.” Gerard breathed.  
“You wanted to go out with me before you knew who I was, right?” Frank asked.  
“Yeah. I’ve wanted to go out with you for…” Gerard paused to think, “Pretty much since I first saw you.”  
“Well, before you knew about me and my… _career,_ ” Frank hummed, “Where would you have wanted to go? Like, on a date, I mean. Suppose you’d given me your number and I’d called you. Where would you have taken me?”  
It wasn’t a question Gerard had been expecting at all.  
“Well… every week I check movie times in case I end up feeling brave enough to give you my number. It’s kind of a cliche date but I think I’d have been less afraid to hold your hand if we were in the back of a dark auditorium, you know?”  
“You’d be afraid to hold my hand?” Frank chuckled. “Why?”  
“You’re just… I don’t know. I really like you. You make me nervous.” Gerard admitted.  
“What would you have to be nervous about? I mean, if I’d already agreed to go on a date with you, wouldn’t that mean I’d probably want to hold your hand too?” Frank asked.  
“I guess. I don’t know. I guess I never really pictured you wanting to go out with me.” Gerard sighed. He really wanted to go back to making out but there was something sweet about just laying there with Frank. And it didn’t seem like Frank was in a hurry to up and leave.  
“You were sort of right to think that, though it wouldn’t be for the reasons you might’ve thought…” Frank admitted, hugging Gerard tighter, “It’s sort of hard to maintain a normal personal life in my profession. Or at least, with people who aren’t already involved. I probably wouldn’t have ever called you.”  
“I literally have to join a gang to get a date in this town.” Gerard sighed.  
“Don’t joke like that.” Frank said, propping himself up on his elbow to lean over Gerard.  
“Sorry.” Gerard whispered, reaching up and running his fingers over Frank’s bare shoulder. His skin was soft and warm and Gerard wanted to run his lips all over it.  
“I have another question...” Frank said softly, skimming his fingers along Gerard’s jaw. His warm breath flooded over Gerard’s face, making him dizzy and weak.  
“Ask away.” Gerard said, “Though, I find it a little unfair that I’m letting you ask whatever you want.”  
“The trick isn’t in controlling what the other person asks, so much as controlling how you answer.” Frank explained. “I haven’t killed you for any of your questions, but I’ve answered by reminding you that I could.”  
“I don’t think that would work so well on my exams.” Gerard laughed.  
“Sure it would.” Frank said, sliding his hand under Gerard’s shirt and skimming over his skin, “Everyone has their limits. Money and threats can get you pretty far in school.”  
“I thought you said you didn’t want me getting involved in your world.” Gerard countered.  
“You’re right.” Frank sighed, “I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff. Anyways, back to my question…”  
“Don’t be surprised if I put a gun to your head for asking it.” Gerard teased, sliding his hand down the back of Frank’s arm.  
“So let’s just say you went on a date at the movies. You held hands with your date the whole time or whatever pussy shit you’re into an-”  
“Hey!” Gerard scolded. “Fuck y-”  
“I’m not done.” Frank interrupted, “So let’s say the date went exceptionally well and you brought them home with you. You guys drank a little whiskey, kissed on your couch for awhile… and then you realized you don’t have any condoms but you still wanted to be um, close to them and they wanted to be close to you. What would you do?”  
Frank’s hand slid down Gerard’s torso and over the front of his jeans. His breath hitched at the contact.  
“Well,” Gerard whispered, “I’d probably um-”  
“Don’t tell me. Just... _Show me._ ” Frank purred, shoving his tongue in Gerard’s mouth and starting on the button on his jeans. Gerard sighed into Frank’s mouth and fumbled around for the button on Frank’s pants. They didn’t have a normal button, but rather a clip that slid through a small metal sliver. It took Gerard a moment to figure out the mechanism but as soon as he did he slid his hand into Frank’s pants, finding Frank was just as hard as he was. He stroked up and down Frank’s length slowly, evenly; gasping as Frank mirrored his movements.  
Frank dragged heated kisses along Gerard’s neck as they jacked each other off. Gerard pulled his hand away for a moment to run his tongue over his palm. Frank’s rhythm slowed as he tried to figure out why Gerard had stopped, speeding up and letting out a groan as Gerard returned his hand.  
“Why don’t you tell me what we’d do if we had condoms?” Frank growled against Gerard’s ear.  
“I’d rather show you.” Gerard gasped, kissing Frank hungrily and flicking his wrist in a way he remembered his ex-boyfriend liking quite a bit. Frank liked it too, if the sound he produced into Gerard’s mouth was any indication.  
“You’re bluffing.” Frank groaned against Gerard’s lips.  
“Prove it.” Gerard countered, picking up the rhythm of his strokes. Frank’s strokes got more and more erratic as they continued their argument in physical terms, each trying to get the other off first.  
If anyone asked Frank, Gerard came first. If they asked Gerard, he’d say Frank came first. In reality, Frank had come first, but Gerard had made things too personal by groaning Frank’s name as he fell apart in Frank’s arms.  
They laid there silently, half-dressed and covered in spunk, too blissed-out to want to move just yet. Frank’s lips moved against Gerard’s lazily as Gerard traced soft lines on Frank’s skin.  
Gerard pulled off his shirt and used it to wipe off most of the cum. Frank didn’t seem too pleased with his methods, though he didn’t say so. Instead he draped himself over Gerard, burying his face in the crook of Gerard’s neck. Gerard wrapped his arm around Frank’s shoulders and felt around for a corner of the blanket.  
“Don’t let me fall asleep here.” Frank said softly, pressing a soft kiss to Gerard’s neck.  
“I won’t.” Gerard promised. He knew why Frank couldn’t stay but it still made his heart sink.  
“You know something?” Gerard said softly, voice groggy from misuse, “I think for our first date I would’ve taken you to The Met.”  
“Yeah?” Frank breathed. “I thought we went to the movies?”  
“Well, our second date then.” Gerard amended with a sigh, “There’s this really cool exhibit on taxidermy there right now. I heard they have a lot of bats. I’d wanna hold your hand there, I guess?”  
“Sounds nerdy.” Frank commented softly,  
“I think I’d probably wanna kiss you in one of those staged victorian rooms. That could be our first kiss.” Gerard mused.  
“I’m… sort of sorry for how our first kiss went down.” Frank said, lifting his head up to try and look at Gerard in the dark. Gerard could see the outline of his face, but couldn’t find his eyes in the darkness. “The gun ruined it, I’m sure.”  
“I don’t really remember it.” Gerard said, “It was all too surreal. I was scared.”  
“Yeah. I think I heard your heart pounding.” Frank chuckled, planting another kiss against Gerard’s skin. “I’m sorry if I… stole that moment from you. I just… That was kind of a tense job. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stay in New York and I didn’t want to have left without kissing you. Not after I found out you liked me.”  
“I’d ask but…” Gerard faltered, “I don’t know. I’m not supposed to ask, right?”  
“Right.” Frank agreed, “And that’s part of why we can’t be together. I wouldn’t be able to tell you where I was going or what I was doing. Ever. For your own safety, you know?”  
“Well… we’re not together so don’t worry about it.” Gerard sighed dejectedly.  
“I’m sorry.” Frank said. He sounded sincere but the realization that Frank would have to leave soon and maybe never come back was starting to settle in Gerard’s mind and it fucking hurt. “For the record... I think we could’ve been great.” Gerard said.  
“For the record… I…” Frank faltered, “I agree.”  
Gerard carded his fingers through Frank’s hair, relishing in the feeling of Frank’s warm skin against his.  
“I should probably go. I think the sun will be up soon.” Frank said softly, stretching out and sitting up.  
“You should stay.” Gerard said, already knowing how the moment was going to end. “I know why you can’t, but…”  
“I wish I could.” Frank confessed, sliding off the bed.  
“Will I ever see you again?” Gerard asked, feeling like a cliche from an old black and white film as he followed Frank into the living room on unsteady legs.  
“Don’t start with that.” Frank tutted, pulling on his shirt and his jacket, “You’re still my responsibility remember? I’ll have to make a monthly visit to make sure you’re still terrified of me.” He dropped onto the couch to toe into his shoes and fix the laces.  
“Once a month?” Gerard said, milling over the thought of Frank showing up at his apartment on a monthly basis to take advantage of him. He wondered if Frank had other guys he came to see on similar terms for the same reason.  
“For a little while.” Frank said, sliding the clip back into his gun and carefully pocketing it.  
Gerard just shook his head and heaved a sigh with a heavy heart as he followed Frank down the hallway towards the door. Frank pulled him in and pressed a kiss to his lips.  
“I had fun tonight…” Gerard whispered, feeling dumb and used for admitting it.  
“Weirdest fucking first date ever.” Frank agreed.  
“I’d tell you to call me but…” Gerard trailed off.  
“Yeah…” Frank sighed. _“Yeah.”_  
They kissed again, a little more heatedly than before.  
“Goodnight.” Frank whispered.  
“Goodnight.” Gerard echoed as Frank slid out the door.  
He locked all the locks, checking them twice before sauntering off to his bed and collapsing. The sheets were still warm from when Frank had still been there. The sheets still smelled like Frank. Gerard found himself in a strange company of disappointment and satisfaction as he drifted off into a heavy sleep.


	5. I Hate You

It wasn’t until about a week after Frank’s late-night visit that Gerard realized he was under some kind of surveillance...  
He stepped out of his apartment building one morning to find a black car with heavily tinted windows parked across the street. At first he thought it might be Frank paying him a visit, but no one got out of the car as he stood there, lighting his cigarette and trying to make out a face through the tinted windows. His second thought was that it must’ve been one of Frank’s enemies, either trying to figure out his connection to Gerard or trying to kill Gerard for being connected. As soon as he realized that it was a possibility, he started down the street at an uncomfortably fast walking speed, trying to keep his movements unpredictable so he’d be harder to shoot at.  
He somehow made it into the subway station unscathed. There were no bullet-holes in his chest, no chloroform rags shoved in his face. His heart and mind were racing and he’d dropped his cigarette at some point between the front steps of the apartment building and the steps down into the subway.  
Frank had tried to tell him he didn’t want to get involved. Gerard hadn’t really thought about the implications of being associated with the mobster. He might’ve been able to think it through if Frank had ever bothered to disclose any information about who he was or what he did. All Gerard knew was that he liked to do shifty, highly illegal shit in dark alleys in his spare time. Gerard didn’t mind being involved, provided he knew _what the fuck_ he was getting involved in. As he rode the subway to school, his racing mind developed a lot of questions he wanted to ask Frank the next time he saw him.  
When he got off the subway he took a different exit than he normally did, thinking he could shake anyone who might’ve been following him. It seemed like a paranoid measure at first, but upon exiting the station, Gerard was greeted with the sight of the same exact black car. Gerard’s heart leapt as he ducked into the thick crowd of commuters, hoping no one would shoot at him if he was in a crowd.  
The rest of the day was suffered in constant paranoia. He didn’t _think_ anyone would try to shoot him while he was in school. He didn’t even know if the people following him were going to shoot him. There were much more effective ways to kill a person. He made sure he didn’t go anywhere alone. He stuck to crowds in between classes, never wandering down deserted hallways or going into empty bathrooms. If there was a target on his back, there was no way he was going to make it easy for his hitman.  
When his classes were over, Gerard quickly walked back to the subway, not even checking for the black car he knew was parked somewhere along the curb. If death was coming he didn’t want to know. He glanced over at the sign for the Starbucks across the street. He needed to see Frank but he didn’t want to give the people following him around any indication that he _knew_ Frank. It was fucking inconvenient that Frank hadn’t given Gerard any ways to contact him.  
Nobody made any attempts on his life as he took the steps down into the station. As he waited for the train, nobody seemed to be staring at him menacingly. He didn’t recognize any of their faces. Nobody looked ready to push him in front of an oncoming train.  
He rode the subway home in his same paralyzed state. If they were going to kill him there was nothing he could do. He had no way to defend himself. If he called the police he’d have to explain the crime he’d been a witness to. _He’d be turning Frank in._  
He was starting to reconsider the hitman theory after he got off the train and even stopped for a cup of coffee. If he was going to die he wanted to die drinking coffee. He couldn’t think of a reason they hadn’t killed him yet. They’d had plenty of opportunities to do it.  
A black car was waiting for him by the time he made it back to his apartment building. He wasn’t sure what to do. If he took off running, they would know he’d spotted them. If he kept walking, they’d… _Gerard didn’t even know what they wanted from him anymore._  
He squinted at the tinted windows to see if he recognized the driver. The faint outline didn’t look like Frank at all. He turned and quickly made his way inside the building.  
Once Gerard was inside his apartment, he made a point to lock all the locks, check the locks on all his windows and lower the blinds. He peeked through the blinds down at the street. The car window had been rolled down and smoke was billowing out of it. He couldn’t make out a face in the fading late afternoon sun but he could see an arm with a cigarette dangling out of one of the windows. The chubby hand had no tattoos. _It definitely wasn’t Frank._  
  
It didn’t really make sense for anyone to want Gerard dead. He’d been a witness to a crime, sure, but to his knowledge that was why Frank had paid him a visit the week before. The only alternative his mind could come up with was that something had happened to Frank and they were after Gerard to tie up Frank’s loose ends. That thought made it harder to swallow. Sure they’d only shared one brief, awkward romantic exchange, but Gerard had liked Frank all semester. The idea of something terrible happening to Frank was a horrible weight on his heart.  
  
The following day went much the same. It looked as though the car hadn’t moved all night, though that couldn’t have been possible. Nobody made any grabs for Gerard as he walked out of his apartment building on the way to school, or during school, or on his way home from school. The black car followed him everywhere he went, even when he decided to stop by an art supply store after class to pick up a new sketchbook.  
The car followed him everywhere all week long. He couldn’t tell if death was always around the corner or not. The stress was doing strange things to his sleeping patterns and his artwork. He’d started on a series of saints. They were patron saints of different things that Gerard would miss in death. The patron saint of coffee and the patron saint of cigarettes occupied page after page, swapping vices as they sat on Gerard’s grave.  
  
Gerard had been doing a great job of not going to the Starbucks where Frank worked all week long, but between the sleepless nights and the constant stress he needed to see Frank. Frank was the person most capable of getting him out of his situation. _In fact, Frank was the entire reason he was in his situation._  
He followed closely behind a group of girls on his way to the Starbucks, trying to look like their awkward quiet friend. They were engaged in an incredibly vapid conversation about some TV show. They also walked incredibly slowly.  
Eventually Gerard made it into the starbucks, looking over his shoulder for anyone who might fit the description of a minor criminal. To his relief there were no creepy dudes in suits with sunglasses, or bald dudes in leather jackets with lots and lots of tattoos.  
Frank was in his usual spot behind the espresso machine, smiling and chatting with the customer in front of him as he worked. He hadn’t noticed Gerard yet. Gerard’s mouth got drier and drier the closer he got to the register. Even if he was being followed by potential murderers he still felt nervous about showing up at Frank’s work after the guy had specifically told him not to.  
Gerard knew he was in trouble the second Frank’s eyes landed on him. The smile immediately dropped from his lips as they made eye contact.  
“The usual?” He asked in monotone as he eyed Gerard.  
Gerard nodded silently, handing the girl behind the register a few crumpled bills. She gave him his change, which he numbly dropped into the tip jar.  
He looked back over at Frank, who didn’t look mad but that didn’t mean he wasn’t mad. Frank was probably very good at hiding his emotions. He stared at Gerard as he prepared the espresso, not even looking at what he was doing. Gerard might’ve been impressed if he wasn’t in such a state of panic.  
“How’s your week going?” Frank asked icily.  
“It’s been, um... “ Gerard faltered, “I’ve had, um, _company_.”  
Gerard was trying to wordlessly convey just how fucking terrified he was when, to Gerard’s surprise, Frank just smirked at him.  
“Made some new friends, huh?” Frank asked.  
It didn’t take long for Gerard to realize that Frank had been behind the whole thing. As soon as it hit him, he wanted to reach across the espresso machine and punch him right in his stupid, pretty face.  
“You could say that.” Gerard answered flatly.  
Frank winked as he slid Gerard’s drink across the counter. His fingers lingered on the cup for a moment too long. Gerard made a point not to touch them as he grabbed the cup. He turned on his heels and shouldered his way out of the Starbucks as quickly as he could, vowing to never go back into the stupid place ever again.  
It wasn’t until he’d gotten halfway down the block, not even bothering to look for any minor criminals or shiny, black cars, that he noticed the writing on his coffee cup.  
 ** _‘alley behind the bldg. 10 mins’_** it read, in Frank’s quick, messy scrawl. He’d even drawn a sloppy little heart next to the note.  
The message was pretty clear. Gerard was supposed to meet Frank in the alley behind the Starbucks in 10 minutes. It was probably Frank’s smoke break.  
 _How fucking convenient he could spare a fucking smoke break for me,_ Gerard thought morosely.  
Gerard briefly considered just getting on the train and going home to spite Frank. He was under no obligation to go where Frank wanted him to go. In fact, at that moment, he wanted to do the opposite of whatever Frank wanted him to do.  
He stood in the middle of the sidewalk for a few agonizing moments, torn between going home and going to meet Frank in the alley. Eventually, he let out a loud, exasperated sigh and turned around, heading for the alley.  
 _If only Frank hadn’t drawn a fucking heart..._  
  
Gerard puffed a cigarette angrily as he waited for Frank in the alley, trying to put together what he wanted to say.  
Frank took his sweet time getting there. It was more like 13 minutes later that he stepped out of some back door - not that Gerard had been counting the minutes. He had a cup of coffee in his hand. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips.  
“Hey.” Frank said cheerily, crossing the alley and moving right into Gerard’s space bubble. He tried to back away and backed right into the brick wall behind him.  
“First of all, _**fuck you.**_ ” Gerard stabbed. It had sounded much more menacing in his head than it did coming out of his mouth.  
“Aw, don’t be like that, princess.” Frank cooed, pulling the unlit cigarette from his lips and stepping closer.  
“I was _fucking scared_ , Frank.” Gerard snarled.  
“ **Good.** ” Frank countered. “You should’ve been scared. It’s fucking scary to be followed around, isn’t it?”  
“Why? _What was the point of this?_ ” Gerard growled, feeling his voice break, “If you want me gone, _just fucking say so_. I don’t need this passive aggressive bullshit.”  
“No, no, no, you got me all wrong.” Frank said evenly, shaking his head. He set the unlit cigarette and his coffee cup on a window ledge and took another step towards Gerard.  
“I have someone looking after you. That’s all.” Frank explained, ghosting his fingers along Gerard’s jawline, “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”  
 _“Bullshit.”_ Gerard muttered, jerking his head away from Frank’s touch.  
“It’s true.” Frank said softly, placing his fingers under Gerard’s chin to try and get him to look into his eyes, “I’ve been kind of... busy this week so I asked James to keep you safe.”  
“Who the fuck is _James?”_ Gerard asked.  
“No one.” Frank answered lightly.  
“No one?” Gerard sighed. _“Seriously?”_  
“He’s…” Frank paused, “He’s a _friend._ Not so good at _subtlety_ , obviously, but he’s a good shot.”  
“So he’s a bodyguard?” Gerard asked.  
“For all intents and purposes…” Frank chuckled, “I guess we can call him a bodyguard.”  
“What is the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?” Gerard asked.  
“You sure have a lot of questions today.” Frank tutted. He glanced around to make sure no one was looking and wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck.  
 _“Just answer the question, Frank.”_ Gerard pleaded.  
“Or you’ll what?” Frank smirked.  
“You know what? **I want out of this.** ” Gerard said, pulling away from Frank. “What do I have to do to get away from you? Do I have to die? Move far away from here? Just tell me. I’ll do it.”  
“You don’t want out of this.” Frank said, shaking his head. “... _Do you?_ ”  
“I do.” Gerard nodded. “You were right. I don’t want to get involved with you.”  
“It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” Frank said in cold monotone, raising an eyebrow. It scared Gerard more than the black car had, if he was completely honest about it.  
“I don’t care.” Gerard shrugged, “I’m sick of this.”  
“I’ll make it all up to you.” Frank promised, “I swear.”  
“When?” Gerard demanded.  
“Real soon.” Frank said, reaching out to touch Gerard’s face again. Gerard begrudgingly let him.  
“No, Frank. When?” Gerard asked sternly.  
“You’re not even gonna let me surprise you?” Frank cooed, “ _Fine. I_ was gonna come by your place tomorrow night.”  
“What time?” Gerard asked.  
“I dunno.” Frank shrugged, “You see I have a sort of… _dinner date_ with this guy who owes a lot of people a lot of money.”  
 _“What time, Frank?”_ Gerard pressed.  
“How about midnight?” Frank said, popping Gerard’s space bubble again and latching himself around Gerard’s neck.  
He leaned in and tried to press his lips against Gerard’s, but Gerard tilted his face away. It felt nice to have Frank’s lips on his cheek, but he was still too mad to let the Frank kiss him.  
“You’re really not gonna let me kiss you?” Frank purred against Gerard’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.  
“I’m still mad at you.” Gerard said softly, “You could’ve fucking told me, you know?”  
“I know…” Frank agreed, hugging him tighter, “I’m sorry.”  
He said it so soft, Gerard almost wasn’t sure he’d heard Frank right. He still couldn’t really believe ‘sorry’ was a fucking possibility in Frank’s vocabulary at all.  
He was quiet as Frank hugged him. He still wanted to punch him in the fucking face. Frank could probably beat the shit out of him but Gerard would've been satisfied to just get a few punches in.  
“I thought you were _dead,_ Frank...” Gerard whispered miserably.  
Frank heaved a heavy sigh against Gerard’s chest.  
“If I was dead, you’d know.” Frank said as he looked up, “I’d never go out quietly.”  
“You can’t guarantee shit like that.” Gerard muttered, “There’s no way for you to be certain.”  
“ _It would be on the news..._ ” Frank said.  
Gerard wanted to ask what he meant, but he knew Frank wouldn’t give him a straight answer.  
“I have to get back to work.” Frank said, pulling away from Gerard, “James’ll take good care of you… But if you’re still feeling shook up, we’ll look into getting you a gun, alright?”  
Gerard looked for any trace of amusement on his face but didn’t find any.  
“ _A gun?_ ” Gerard asked, “ _That’s_ supposed to make me feel safer? Frank, I don’t even know how to **shoot** a gun.”  
“You’d figure it out... You’re good with your hands.” Frank leered.  
“I hate you.” Gerard sighed, feeling a blush creep over his cheeks.  
“ _Good._ ” Frank nodded, backing away towards the door he’d come out of before. “I guess I hate you, too, since I didn’t get to smoke on my fucking smoke break... And half the time we spent arguing could’ve been spent making out.”  
Gerard just rolled his eyes, completely missing the kiss Frank blew at him before he slipped back inside to finish his shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been 3 months and you probably forgot about this story. hahahahahaaha. (((( laughing to hide the crying ; ) ))))


	6. Bl00d

Even though Frank had sort of straightened things out, the constant stress of thinking he was being hunted down had finally taken it’s toll on Gerard. When he’d gotten out of bed to make a pot of coffee on Friday morning and seen the rain pouring down outside, he’d immediately decided he’d be skipping out on his classes.  
He typically didn’t skip school. Not since he’d started going to art school, anyway. He usually liked attending his classes, even when he was feeling sick. It was Friday though, which meant he’d only be missing out on art history, which was just fine by him.  
As the coffee pot gurgled loudly in the small kitchen, he peeked out the window above his desk and looked for the shiny black car. It was parked where it was always been parked.  
Gerard had grown curious about his mysterious bodyguard. The car was there at all hours of the day. Didn’t the guy need to eat or sleep or… do anything besides sit in his car and make sure no one fucked with Gerard?  
Gerard vaguely considered going down and offering the guy a cup of coffee, but if he was anywhere near as hostile as Frank he’d probably just point a gun at Gerard. It was way too early in the morning to get held at gunpoint over not adding the right amount of sugar to a cup of coffee, Gerard decided. He sighed to himself as he lowered the blinds. He didn’t really want to wash a second mug anyways…  
Realizing he had the day to himself, Gerard attempted to clean up his place a little. He was still too mad at Frank to want to impress the guy. At least, that’s what he told himself as he shoved a towering pile of dirty laundry into his closet and rounded up all the empty beer cans he could find in his living room. He elbowed the dirty dishes into the sink as he sucked down his first cup of coffee.  
The place actually looked a considerable amount cleaner by the time Gerard finished his second cup. He was worried he’d overdone it a little. He didn’t want Frank to think the tidying had anything to do with him because it didn’t. _Not really._ The fact that he wouldn’t trip over anything when Frank was shoving him onto his bed later was just an added bonus.  
Gerard had just sat down on his couch to admire his work when he was startled by a knock at his door. He glanced over at the clock. It was just past 3pm. Frank said he wouldn’t be around until Midnight, on account of his _"dinner plans,"_ so it couldn’t have been Frank.  
Gerard hadn’t had any visitors since before he’d accidentally involved himself in the mafia. Aside from members of the mafia, of course.  
Gerard very quietly set his mug down on the coffee table and tiptoed over to the window, avoiding the floorboards he knew were creaky, to check and see if his body guard was still parked outside. He delicately stuck his fingers between the blinds and peaked down onto the street. The black car was still there, but the driver’s side door was wide open. From the angle he was standing he couldn’t tell if anyone was sitting in the driver’s seat.  
He tiptoed towards the his front door, again, minding the floorboards, and glanced through the peephole. A man in a baggy suit with shaggy brown hair and a beard stood on the other side of the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot.  
“Mr. Way?” The man called loudly.  
Gerard’s heart jumped when the guy reached out and tried to open his door.  
“Mr. Way, if you’re on the other side of this door…” The guy said, sighing and running his hand through his hair. He pulled his jacket back and rested his hand on a gun holstered at his hip.  
Gerard held his breath and watched to see what the guy would do next. He wondered how much longer he should stay there, frozen, before pulling out his phone and calling 9-1-1.  
“I know you’re in there.” The guy continued loudly, “The boss is gonna kill me if anything happened to you...”  
“Who are you?” Gerard asked through the door.  
“That’s not important.” The guy said, staring back through the peephole, “Couldn’t help but notice you didn’t leave for school this morning. Had to make sure no one snuck in and sliced you up while I had my back turned.”  
Gerard knew the guy couldn’t see him through the small hole, but it still freaked him out to make eye contact with him through the small piece of glass.  
“I skipped.” Gerard explained, running his hand over the lock and making sure the deadbolt was in place. “Don’t you have this place bugged or something? Did you really have to come all the way up here to check on me?”  
“The boss had suggested it.” The guy said, smiling fondly, “I sort of... talked him down? Seemed like _overkill_ to me.”  
“Well.. thanks, I guess?” Gerard said.  
Instead of responding the guy turned on his heels and started down the hall.  
The guy probably wasn’t going to try and off Gerard if he wasn’t trying to get into his apartment anymore. Deciding it was safe, Gerard quickly turned the lock and swung his door open so he could poke his head out into the hall.  
“James?” Gerard called out.  
“Yeah?” the guy responded. He stopped walking but didn’t turn around.  
“How do you like your coffee?” Gerard asked hesitantly.  
“I don’t.” James replied, “I prefer tea.”  
“Oh.” Gerard faltered, “Um. What kind?”  
“Green.” James shrugged. “It’s not very Italian, I know…”  
“I guess it isn’t.” Gerard agreed with a small smile before closing his door and putting the locks back in place. He tiptoed over to the blinds and watched the street, waiting for the bodyguard to exit the building. Eventually, James strolled out into the rain in his frumpy suit, not bothering to look before crossing the street and slid back into his car.  
Gerard wrote ‘green tea’ on a little note on his refrigerator in hopes it would remind him to pick some up the next time he went to the store.  
  
Waiting for Frank to show up was miserable. Gerard was itching for a drink. Drinking was his favorite way to pass the time, but if he was drunk when Frank showed up he’d do something stupid like forget he was still mad.  
He was still mad. Their entire arrangement was stupid and exhausting and sort of pointless. They didn’t want the same things from each other. Gerard just wished so fucking badly that he could care as little as Frank cared.  
Gerard meditated on some questions he could sneak in on the off chance Frank let his guard down. He wanted to know why Frank said he would be on the news if he died but Gerard was fairly certain Frank wouldn’t talk to him about that. He decided he’d ask why Frank was slaving away at a Starbucks when he was wealthy enough to afford frivolous things like round-the-clock bodyguards who preferred green tea over coffee.  
  
Gerard over-compensated for the lack of drinking by chain smoking. He puffed on cigarette after cigarette as he sat in front of the TV with a sketchpad in his lap. He wasn’t really paying attention to his cigarettes or his his doodles. His mind was buzzing.  
It was around 11pm he ran out of cigarettes, which was poor planning on his part. He didn’t want to leave in case Frank showed up early, but on the contrary he was starting to buzz with nervousness. It was stupid to be nervous, he supposed. There was no point in trying to impress Frank.  
He got up and peeked out the window, surprised to find that his bodyguard wasn’t parked in his usual spot. Gerard glanced up and down the street but didn’t see any shiny black cars at all. That was odd.  
His anxiety quickly morphed from worrying that Frank would show up to worrying that he wouldn’t because something bad had happened. He wondered if that anxiety would ever go away. It only seemed to get worse, the more invested Gerard got.  
Gerard waited by the window for awhile, but after a few minutes with no familiar black cars rolling down the street, he stepped away.  
He put on some music and started another pot of coffee, mostly for something to do with his hands.  
Gerard’s heart jumped when he finally heard a loud bang on his door. It was far from a polite knock.  
Gerard quickly made his way over to his door, minding his floorboards to give the illusion that no one was home as usual. As he gazed through the peephole, he could see Frank on the other side, but he almost couldn’t believe it was Frank. The barista uniform had been replaced with a suit and his usually messy hair was slicked back.  
Gerard’s hand flew up to remove the deadbolt. He took a step back as he swung the door open to let Frank in.  
  
It didn’t take Gerard long to realize something was horribly wrong. Frank didn’t smirk as he shoved his way past Gerard into apartment. His face was pale and vacant.  
He regarded Gerard with hollow eyes as he swung the door shut behind them.  
“Frank?” Gerard tested softly.  
Frank didn’t say anything. Gerard followed a few paces behind him as he wandered into the kitchen.  
He was afraid to get too close because he had no idea if Frank was armed or not.  
“Frank, are you okay?” Gerard tried again.  
“Never ask about my work.” Frank said coldly, turning to face Gerard. He reached up and loosened his necktie.  
“I don’t give a shit about where you were or what you were doing. I just asked if you were okay.” Gerard pointed out, trying to conceal that he was hurt by Frank’s deflection.  
“Honest question: _**Do I look okay?”**_ Frank asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter and glaring at Gerard, _“Define ‘okay.’”_  
  
And that was when Gerard noticed the blood. It was the flecks of bright red on the collar of Frank’s white dress shirt that caught his eye. In the dim of the apartment’s hallway, he hadn’t noticed the blood that peppered Frank’s face. The clear splatter across Frank’s form was vivid under the fluorescent lighting in the kitchen.  
“Uh, Frank…” Gerard started, swallowing hard and taking a step backwards.  
“What?” Frank asked, furrowing his brow, “Why are you looking at me like that?”  
Frank’s tie made a whooshing sound as he pulled it off and dropped it on the counter behind him. The sound sliced right through Gerard’s sudden terror. His blood turned cold as Frank eyed him curiously.  
“You have, um, well, **_blood_** on you…” Gerard stammered out.  
“Where?” Frank asked, glancing down at himself. He pulled off his suit jacket and let it fall to the kitchen floor. He started on the buttons of his dress shirt without even looking for the flecks of blood.  
“It’s on your shirt and... on your face a bit...” Gerard commented helplessly. He glanced around his kitchen for napkins, or a dish towel or something, but he was too messy to keep things like that around.  
Frank ripped off his dress shirt and let if fall on top of the suit jacket. He’d messed up his hair in the process.  
“Can I… um… use your bathroom?” Frank asked, launching himself out of the kitchen.  
“Third door on the right.” Gerard called out after Frank.  
As Gerard was picking up Frank’s discarded, bloody clothes and putting them in a neat pile on the counter, he could hear the distinct echo of Frank retching in his bathroom.  
He was still sort of numb to the idea that Frank had showed up at his place covered in someone else’s blood, but it seemed to have finally hit Frank.  
Gerard wandered into the living room to put on some music to give Frank some privacy. After turning on his stereo, he checked out the window. James was parked in his usual spot across the street again. He busied himself washing off a glass and filling it with water.  
When Frank emerged from the bathroom and came back into the kitchen, he looked like shit. He’d slicked his hair back into place, but his face was paler than ever. His eyes were vacant. His lips were gently curved into a stoic frown.  
“Frank?” Gerard tested again, handing him a glass of water.  
“My date didn’t go so well.” Frank offered in monotone, “The guy was… _late._ Things got out of hand.”  
Gerard nodded silently, not wanting to speak for fear of giving Frank an excuse to change the subject.  
“It’s a shame really…” He continued, “I liked that suit quite a bit.”  
Frank stared at his rumpled suit jacket on the counter in silence.  
“Frank did you…” Gerard started, swallowing hard as he heard his own nervous voice, “Did you kill someone?”  
“ ** _Never_** ask me about my work.” Frank repeated, turning and opening Gerard’s freezer and pulling out the half-consumed bottle of whiskey Gerard had stashed there.  
“Okay?” Gerard sighed as he helplessly watched Frank take a swig from the bottle, “You’re kind of freaking me out.”  
He felt like a broken record player, but he wasn’t sure how to best console a killer. He’d never had to do that before.  
“We need to get one thing straight, Gerard.” Frank said, grimacing as the cheap alcohol burned its way down his throat, “Taking someone’s life is a very… _personal_ matter. I’m just a mediator. So _no,_ I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t kill people. I hire other people to do it for me.”  
“Now,” Frank continued, passing the bottle to Gerard, “Can we please discuss something else? I’ve had a rough day.”  
Frank crossed the small kitchen, reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. When he turned back around to face Gerard, the horrified look in his eyes had been replaced by cool, calm collection. Gerard was going to have to find out how the fuck Frank did that. He actually smiled at Gerard as he pulled out two cigarettes and placed them both between his lips. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit both of the cigarettes all in one suave, fluid motion. It almost looked like a fucking magic trick.  
“I uh… I met James today…” Gerard said, grasping for a subject change, “He seems… nice?”  
“What do you mean you… **_met_** him?” Frank asked, passing Gerard one of the cigarettes.  
“I skipped school… so…” Gerard trailed off, puffing on his cigarette.  
“So?” Frank pressed conversationally.  
“So he came up to make sure I wasn’t… _sliced up._ Which, _by the way,_ wasn’t something I realized I was in immediate danger of.” Gerard pointed out.  
“Why did you skip?” Frank asked, ignoring Gerard’s comment and blowing smoke in his face.  
“...The rain?” Gerard mused, “I just didn’t feel like going out.”  
“You’re kind of a homebody, aren’t you?” Frank smirked, grabbing the bottle from Gerard and taking another swig.  
“No!” Gerard countered, “I get out plenty.”  
“Doubt it.” Frank laughed.  
Gerard just made a face at Frank and made a move for the doorway. What kind of quasi-murderer had the tenacity to show up at his apartment late at night covered in blood and then be a complete asshole about it? And then proceed to be a complete asshole about everything else?  
“Hey wait,” Frank cooed, setting down the bottle and grabbing Gerard’s arm as he tried to walk away, “I like that you don’t like going out.”  
Frank leaned forward and pressed his lips against Gerard’s and oh, right, that’s why Frank had even wanted to come over in the first place. As Gerard let himself kiss Frank back, it felt like he was making some kind of deal with the devil. He couldn’t help but wonder if kissing someone who’d just been accessory to a violent crime was against the law.  
He pulled away from Frank enough to drop his still-smoking cigarette in one of the dirty mugs circling his overcrowded sink.  
When he looked back over at Frank, he almost forgot that the guy had showed up covered in blood. He had a cigarette in one hand, bottle of whiskey in the other. His hair was slicked back. His undershirt was thin and tight. Gerard could see the dark patches of the tattoos that curled over his torso through the fabric. The tattoos that weren’t covered burned brightly in the fluorescent lighting. Frank was just staring at him with a curious, hungry look that made Gerard almost as uncomfortable as he was desperate.  
Gerard took a step forward and kissed Frank with a lot more force than Frank had used. If they were going to do this, Gerard wanted to get it over with so Frank would leave and go be an asshole about everything somewhere else. Frank had already taken half of his clothes off which was really only to Gerard’s advantage. He ran his hand up the back of Frank’s undershirt as he kissed the hell out of him, leaning into him to push him up against the counter. Frank fumbled around to set the open bottle of whiskey on the counter behind him without spilling it everywhere, which would’ve been a challenge for even the smoothest of criminals given the way Gerard was shoving his tongue down Frank’s throat.  
Gerard didn’t know what Frank did with his cigarette and frankly, he didn’t care. As long as Frank kept kissing him back, it didn’t matter. Frank reached his hands up and tangled them in Gerard’s hair as he slid back onto the counter.  
Gerard knew he was imagining the tinge of blood under the cigarette and whiskey taste on Frank’s tongue. He had to be imagining it. The blood had been on Frank’s skin, and on his shirt, not in his mouth. It still freaked Gerard the fuck out. He pulled his lips away from Frank’s and placed an experimental kiss on the guy’s neck. He could feel Frank freeze up under his lips. Frank’s breath caught in his throat as Gerard placed soft, careful kisses along his neck. He was wearing some type of intoxicating cologne that seemed to drown the thoughts of the stranger’s blood.  
“Gerard.” Frank hissed, loosely wrapping his arms around Gerard’s shoulders.  
Gerard rested his hand on Frank’s knee and slowly slid his hand up.  
“Wait a minute,” Frank mumbled, sliding his hand on top of Gerard’s, “We should slow down.”  
“Why? I thought this was why you came over?” Gerard asked.  
“I mean, I can’t say I didn’t think about this, but it’s not **_why_** I wanted to see you.” Frank explained with a small frown as he gently pushed Gerard back so he could slide off the counter.  
“I was actually kind of hoping you’d show me your art.” Frank continued, grabbing the bottle of whiskey off the counter with one hand and grabbing Gerard’s arm with the other. He led Gerard out of the kitchen, towards his desk in the living room.  
Frank dropped into the chair in front of Gerard’s desk and reached for one of Gerard’s sketchbooks. Gerard cringed and turned away as he started flipping through it. He didn’t want to watch Frank’s face as he processed the drawings. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the desk and peeked through the blinds, down at the shiny black car parked across the street.  
“What does James do all day?” Gerard asked conversationally.  
Instead of answering, Frank let out a long breath that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan.  
“Oh. Um. Right.” Gerard stammered, taking a swig off of the bottle. Frank never wanting to answer any fucking questions was getting old really fucking quick.  
“I think he… watches a lot of porn? I don’t really know.” Frank said eventually, “I have him schedule appointments for me sometimes...”  
Gerard turned to look at Frank, brow furrowed in confusion.  
“What?” Frank asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”  
Gerard shrugged, taking another swig of whiskey.  
“You’re really good…” Frank said, redirecting his attention to the sketchbook in his hands.  
“Thanks.” Gerard sighed.  
“Like, really good.” Frank gushed.  
It was weird to see Frank suddenly acting so normal and even borderline... _sweet._ The terrified boy caught up in his crimes had vanished under several layers of whateverthefuck Frank sugarcoated himself in when he was churning out drinks at the Starbucks off campus. The eerie part was that the smile on Frank’s face seemed genuine. He’d been a total mess not ten minutes before…  
The idea that Frank was there for anything other than sex was also somewhat perplexing. Gerard didn’t know what to do with that information at all.  
“I keep flipping back to this one.” Frank said, pointing to one of the drawings. Gerard vaguely recognized it as one of the pieces from his drug phase last month. He remembered coloring it. Sort of.  
“You can have it.” Gerard offered, “If you want it, I mean.”  
“No way.” Frank refused, shaking his head.  
“Please.” Gerard insisted.  
“Wow, um, okay.” Frank said, passing the sketchbook to Gerard, “But I don’t wanna just like, rip it out. Can you…?”  
Gerard grabbed the book and tore the page out. Frank squeaked at the sound of the paper ripping, which Gerard, of course, found completely adorable.  
“All yours.” Gerard sighed, handing him the paper.  
“Thanks.” Frank said, setting the page down on the desk, “Don’t let me forget it when I leave, okay?”  
“Sure.” Gerard nodded, going for another sip of whiskey, “How long do I have you for anyways?”  
“All night.” Frank said, “If that's _cool_ with you?”  
“That could be cool...” Gerard shrugged, not wanting to sound too interested.  
“Which reminds me, what do you do on the weekends usually?” Frank asked.  
“Ask James.” Gerard huffed.  
“Okay, well actually what I wanted to know was what you’re doing _tomorrow._ ” Frank tutted, rolling his eyes.  
“Nothing.” Gerard answered. He kicked himself for not even bothering to make something up. Then again, if he didn’t do what he said he was going to do he might get another visit from James.  
“Great.” Frank said, “Could I… take you out maybe?”  
“Okay.” Gerard said, feeling himself blush.  
“Cool.” Frank grinned.  
Frank lifted himself out of the chair and crossed the distance between them. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey out of Gerard’s hand and fluidly took a sip.  
“I’ve wanted to um… _see more of you._ In general. But things have just been so crazy.” Frank sighed, “I think everything will be different after what went down tonight…”  
“I don’t get it...” Gerard laughed.  
“Get what?” Frank asked.  
“You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to like, _date me,_ or whatever, so… why are you wasting your time here? Why would you want to waste more of your time here?” Gerard asked.  
Frank looked a little like Gerard had just smacked him, only, on second thought, Frank would probably look a lot more murderous if Gerard had smacked him.  
“I’m just trying to be honest with you.” Gerard amended, “Because I really don’t get it.”  
“...Have you ever seen someone get shot?” Frank asked softly.  
“No, I haven’t.” Gerard sighed, “Stop changing the subject.”  
“I hate to speak in idioms, but bullets really are like hot a knife through butter.” Frank said, “The shit James is packing, it’s like… _there’s no resistance at all._ They just fucking tear right through the flesh.”  
Horror overcame Gerard as he realized Frank was describing what he’d seen before he came over.  
“I love that you don’t know that.” Frank continued with a sad smile, reaching out and running his index finger down along Gerard’s arm. It gave him goosebumps if he was completely honest.  
“I can’t promise you anything good.” Frank went on, “ **Ever.** The first time I kissed you I had you at gunpoint for fuck’s sake… but I want to see where this goes…” It was, by far, the strangest romantic confession Gerard had ever received, considering that it was wrapped in a _murder confession._ Gerard swallowed hard, not sure what he was supposed to say back.  
“I don’t know if you even like me anymore.” Frank said, “I suppose I could be made to understand if you can’t see yourself with someone like me...”  
“I can’t.” Gerard agreed.  
Hurt flashed over Frank’s facial features.  
“But not because I don’t want to.” Gerard explained as quickly as his mouth would allow, “I just… I can’t actually picture myself with you at all... You haven’t really given me much to go on, you know? All I can really say about you is that you know a lot about guns. You obviously have a high pain threshold and interesting taste in art, if your tattoos are anything to go by. And also, you make a damn good latte… But Frank, that’s all I really know about you.”  
“Well no,” Gerard continued, “I also know that you’re completely content to not tell me where you are. Ever. I have no way of telling you when I need you. And then you don’t want me to show up at your work. So I’m guessing anything we had would just be based on when it’s convenient for you...”  
“Whoa. Harsh...” Frank chuckled bitterly, taking another sip off of the bottle, “You could’ve just told me you’re not interested...”  
“It’s not that…” Gerard sighed, “I want to see where this could go as much as you do. And I get that you’re busy… _collecting,_ or whatever. I know that’s why you don’t have time for me. I get why you can’t tell me where you are or why. But I just…. I have my fucking limits, you know?”  
“Way to let me down easy.” Frank offered sarcastically, setting the bottle down on the desk.  
“I just don’t know what you even want from me...” Gerard shrugged.  
“I want to be your boyfriend.” Frank scoffed, “How much more obvious can I be?”  
“Oh… Okay.” Gerard nodded.  
“‘Okay’ as in, you understood what I just said?" Frank asked, "Or ‘Okay’ as in, I can be your-”  
“Both.” Gerard interrupted.  
“Wait, seriously?” Frank asked.  
“Yeah.” Gerard breathed, “Sure. But if you fuck this up…”  
“I won’t.” Frank promised, taking a step forward and wrapping his arms around Gerard’s shoulders.  
“So… what should we do now?” Gerard asked, breathing in Frank’s cologne.  
“What would you be doing if I wasn’t here?” Frank asked.  
“I’d probably… watch TV, jack off, draw until I was too drunk to draw anymore… I don’t know, dude.” Gerard sighed. It seemed a little crude to admit to his habits, but he was curious to see if he could say something that would put Frank off. He couldn’t believe the guy liked him enough to want to _boyfriend_ him.  
“That all sounds nice.” Frank said, pulling away from Gerard and crossing the room to drop onto the couch.  
“Does it?” Gerard laughed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey off his desk and lowering himself onto the couch beside Frank.  
Frank hummed in approval as he lazily reached for the remote. He flipped on the TV and started surfing through the channels, grumbling about Gerard’s cheap cable subscription. When he found something he liked he leaned against Gerard, resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder.

Gerard passed him the bottle of whiskey as he stared vacantly at the TV.  
“I wish I could be around you all the time...” Frank mumbled, bringing the bottle close to his lips, “Because you make me forget who I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, i love using 'boyfriend' as a verb.


End file.
